


Home

by ranguvar82



Series: Silence and Strength [39]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Flower Crowns, Gardens & Gardening, M/M, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24288862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranguvar82/pseuds/ranguvar82
Summary: Crowley does some gardening, reflects on home, and surprises his angel.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Silence and Strength [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630903
Comments: 2
Kudos: 105





	Home

Home

Crowley kneels in the garden, digging his hands deep into the dark, rich soil. He’s thinking about planting more roses here. The soil’s just right for roses, and one can never have too many rosebushes. A butterfly flits in between the flowers, gathering pollen to take back to its home. Crowley’s fingers close on a rock, and he digs it out. It’s far too small to be a basking rock, but it’s the perfect size for creating a little rockery. He sets it aside among a growing pile of rocks.

It’s a very warm day. The sun beats down on his bare, scarred back, warming the snake demon. He glances up briefly when a cloud passes overhead. The phantom pain in his throat swells for a second. It’s never gone, but over the centuries it has lessened, as has the pain of being Cast Out.

Crowley barely thinks about Heaven these days. In his secret heart, he knows the truth. That Heaven had never been home to him. Not like it was to the others. Heaven, even from the start, had been far too sterile and cold for an angel like him. He wonders, sometimes, if She had created him on purpose to be so very different. He had never got on with his siblings or the others. Not until that day he spotted a crying Principality and fallen head over wings in love.

Aziraphale. Even now, after so many years at his angel’s side, both in Heaven and on Earth, he still cannot quite comprehend the fact that he is so completely and utterly loved. His angel has stood by him through everything. Crowley can still remember the night when Aziraphale finally broke down sobbing, apologizing for leaving him alone for those terrible years over a stupid misunderstanding. He doesn’t like to think about those times, when he was catatonic with grief. He much prefers to think of the years after, when even if one of them was called away, they knew they would always return to each other. Return home.

Crowley brushes a strand of hair out of his eyes. No matter how tightly he or Aziraphale braids it, two small strands always escape. Aziraphale will twine them in his fingers when they kiss. His angel loves the feel of Crowley’s hair. He wipes dirt from his hands and reaches for the trowel, stabbing downward to cut the root of a tree that had long since died and gone to rot. The root comes free with a pop, and Crowley falls backwards. Blessing to himself, he sits back up, tossing the root over his shoulder.

The once weedy and rock filled patch now looks like it’s ready for planting. He’ll have to go into Green Thumbs later and get some more roses. Crowley stands, brushing dirt off his shorts, then heads inside to clean himself up.

Aziraphale’s gone into Soho to do some work at the bookshop(mainly making sure it’s still standing) and also to meet someone who purports to have a first edition copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray, so Crowley decides to make him something for his return. He’s in the shower trying to figure out what, when it hits him. Giggling to himself, he washes up, then dries off and gets dressed, heading back out to the garden. He plucks two of every kind of flower that grows there, piling them neatly in a basket.

Back inside, he sorts them into two piles on the kitchen table. With a snap of his fingers, one pile becomes nothing but petals. He snaps again, and the second pile transforms into a pair of flower crowns. Still grinning, he places one of the crowns on his head, then strews the petals from the front door to their bedroom. The final step is to make sure that when his angel returns, Crowley is wearing the crown and nothing else.

He’s just settled back against the headboard when he hears the door open. “Crowley? I’m home, love! Where...oh.” Crowley grins. Aziraphale has noticed the petals. “What on…?”

Aziraphale comes into the bedroom, and Crowley can’t help but notice the way his face lights up at the sight. “Oh, my beautiful demon. Did you do all this for me?”

Crowley nods, and Aziraphale snaps his clothes off, then with a growl, pounces onto the silently giggling demon. “The crown is gorgeous, my Star Maker.” He sucks a kiss into Crowley’s neck. “You are gorgeous.”

Crowley giggles and points to the second crown hanging from the bedpost. His angel’s face lights up. “For me?” A nod, and Aziraphale giggles in joy. “Well, aren’t you going to put it on?” Crowley does so, and Aziraphale beams. “There. Much better. I have to say, this was a wonderful surprise to come home to.”

Home. That simple word that can mean so much. Crowley has been looking for it all his life, and now, he thinks as Aziraphale pulls him into a deep, loving kiss, he’s found it.


End file.
